Seventeen and Invincible

“What do you mean Molly won’t let you?” he asked exasperatedly.

“I mean exactly what it sounds like I mean. I mean Molly doesn’t want me to go with you guys. She said fine for visiting for like a week, but nothing more. You know I’m really sorry, Gar. You know I really wanna go.” He nodded and sighed running his palm down his face.

“I really wish you could go, Ani.”

“I know. I wish I could go too. You know that, Gar.” He nodded his head and stood up. He crossed my room to the window, looking out at the rain.

“Are you going to be okay here without me?” I laughed and nodded.

“I’m gonna be fine, Garrett. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself for a summer.” That
was a lie. My heart was ripping out of my chest it was beating so hard. I could feel it burn and sting and tear. I could feel it beating so fast that it was almost like it wasn’t beating at all.

“Are you sure?” No.

“Yes.” It was falling to pieces. The Left ventricle ripping away from the right; the atria ripping apart; the valves splitting; blood leaking through my system like acid. “I’ll be fine.” Like battery acid burning holes through my bones.

“Tell me the truth, because if you need me I’ll either stay or I’ll take you with me regardless of what Molly wants.” Take me with you.

“I’m sure that I’ll be fine, Gar. I’m telling the truth.” I’m lying my ass off. I shook my head. My heart and head were screaming and battling with one another and my heart was losing.

“What about in a few months when you go into town and you see Evan and Ariel and their baby? Are you going to be okay then?” I shrugged and then nodded.

“He’s not mine and I don’t love him, Garrett. They’re a family now. I just have to live with it. He lied, he cheated, but he’s happy now. I’ll be fine.” No, I’ll be miserable.

“Are you sure?” he asked, throwing me a questioning, worried glance. I nodded and stretched out across my bed. “We’re leaving in two weeks,” he sighed. “Are you okay with going with us for the first week until we find someone else to do merch?” I nodded quietly.

“Yeah, sure.” He sat back down on the edge of my bed. I closed my eyes and scooted to the other side so there was room for him to lay down too.

“Thanks. You’re the best.” I nodded and squeezed my eyes shut even tighter. The closer he moved to me, the more intense the burning got. The closer he came to holding me, the more I could feel the pieces of my heart being turned into pulp. I smiled and rolled onto my side so that he couldn’t see the sad look on my face. He wrapped his arms around my waist like he always did when he had the chance. This time, though, his arms were burning me; suffocating me.

“Not a problem, Gar.” I held my breath as I tried to avoid crying out in pain. It was pure torture. This pain was pure and raw and captivating. I hated it, but I couldn’t bare to force it away. If I forced away the pain, I’d have to force Garrett away.

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And all the roads we have to walk are winding, and all the lights that lead us there are blinding, and there are many things that I would like to say to you, but I don’t know how… my phone rang. I didn’t even have to look at my caller ID to know that it was Garrett—it was his ringtone. He was calling because he wanted me to go to a party tonight; he wanted me to go to a party that I didn’t want to go to.

“Anika!” my mother yelled. I sighed and shivered at the shrill sound of her accent. “Anika, herein!” I let the books I had been organizing slide off of one another on top of my desk to respond before she yelled again.

“Ich Komme! I’m coming.” I opened my door and climbed slowly down the stairs. I took one at a time ignoring her calls to schnell, schnell. “Was?” I asked loudly.

“When are you leaving with those band boys you like to call friends?” I rolled my eyes and shook my head, laughing slightly. Of course she would find a way to insult them—the disgust in her voice when she said ‘band boys’ was way more than apparent.

“Morgen.” She looked unhappily at me. “Warum?” Her expression soured even more if that was possible.

“Nichts.” I rolled my eyes at her and turned to go back up the stairs. “Ich sagte nicht, dass Sie abreisen konnten.” I didn’t say you could leave. I turned back to her. “Ich mag Sie nicht, soviel Zeit allein mit allen jenen Jungen verbringend!” I rolled my eyes and then met her eyes. I don’t like you spending so much time alone with all those boys.

“ Sagen Sie, dass Sie mir nicht vertrauen?” Are you saying that you don’t trust me?

“ Ich vertraue ihnen nicht.” I don’t trust them.

“ Oder ich?” Or me?.

“ Sie sind immer mit Garrett allein. Sie müssen seine Hure sein.” I sighed, laughed and tried not to cry. You’re always alone with Garrett. You must be his whore..

“Nein! I am not his whore! I am not a whore! I’m not anyone’s whore! He’s my friend. He takes care of me like you don’t.” She walked up two stairs to get to me and slapped me across the face at the same time the door swung open.

“No daughter of mine will be whoring around in a van with boys anytime this summer. If you leave,” she threatened, her accent thicker than ever, “you are not welcome back here.” I stared at her in disbelief, my palm pressed against my cheek in shock. “Do you understand?” I nodded and I could feel the tears pricking the corners of my eyes. “Now go tell that no good Saukerl that you will not be joining him this summer.” I nodded grimly and walked up the stairs to get my phone, not having noticed who had walked through the door.

“Anika!” I turned around quickly to face the boy that who had become the source of all my problems. Right now, the only thing keeping me from running to him was my mom. She was literally and figuratively standing between us. I shook my head and walked back up the stairs.

“I can’t go, Garrett. I’m sorry,” I whispered. He nodded and his features softened. “I’m sorry.”

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He didn’t come after me after hearing my mother. He didn’t call or text. No, but at two a.m. he was standing outside of my window throwing pebbles and begging me to go with him even if it meant I had to leave for good. I shook my head, because as much as I wanted to, I knew I couldn’t. He climbed up the side of my house and into my room, tiptoeing across my floor.

“I needed to at least say good-bye,” he whispered. I nodded and wrapped my arms around his neck. He responded by wrapping his arms tightly around my shoulders and waist. “God, I’m going to miss you.” I nodded—a silent ‘I’ll miss you too.’ He sighed into the crook of my neck and I smiled grimly. My heart was no longer pulpy. No, it was officially the consistency of pulp-free orange juice. All of the tissue and muscle had disintegrated from the burning, acidic blood.